Thoughts
by Airiseen13
Summary: The thoughts of Zuko and Katara after the Crossroads of Destiny. Yes, slightly Zutara, and as cannon as possible.
1. Zuko's Thoughts

The Fire Nation Prince Zuko sighed, leaning his forearms against the railing of the balcony just off his sleeping chambers. He couldn't sleep that night, or others before this night. Every night it was the same thing that haunted his dreams and woke him, those big, almost glowing, ocean blue eyes looking hurt, and full of sorrow staring back at him.

Zuko knew who those beautiful eyes belonged to, the Avatar's friend, and waterbending teacher, Katara. He couldn't stop thinking of those fateful moments back in those crystal catacombs of Ba-Sing-Se.

He had earned Katara's trust, despite all he had done to her, her brother, and her friends. He'd chased them around the world, burnt down nearly every town that he had found them in, and he'd even tied her up to a tree and blackmailed her with her late mother's necklace. Yet, she still gave him another chance.

And when it came to the moment of truth, his crossroads of destiny, he made his choice and betrayed her. He went with his sister Azula and attacked the Avatar. Those mournful and hurt azure eyes that had turned to him after that had troubled him ever since. He could not go a day, or even an hour, without finding those glowing orbs in the forefront of his mind, each and every time making his heart drop into his stomach.

He just couldn't take that anymore. He looked up to the full moon on that warm cloudless night and released a long-suffering sigh. Tearing his eyes away from the star-speckled sky, he strode his way into his chambers and lit a candle at his desk with a small exhale. Pulling open a red-lacquered drawer, he tore all of the contents of the drawer and threw them to the ground, not caring that unopened bottles of ink crashed to the floor, leaving a dark stain.

When there was nothing left in the drawer, he reached in and flipped a small latch on the bottom, revealing a secret compartment. Inside were messy and excessive notes on a plan to fix his greatest mistake. Within a week of committing his mistake and returning to his posh and pampered life as Prince, he'd realized he had made the wrong choice. He stole away from the palace to the cell of his Uncle as often as he could, asking for council. Though he barely got anything more than his Uncle's confusingly metaphorical advise, he spent much time just sitting in his Uncle's company and talking his own thoughts and ideas aloud. His Uncle usually stayed silent.

Ignoring the pang lacing through his already-aching heart at the thought of his Uncle's behavior, he set the notes down and pulled a sheet of paper from the ground. Picking up a brush, he began refining and editing his plans, obsessively and single mindedly concentrated on this one task.

As he was deciding between procuring a small war balloon and stealing away in a cargo ship to escape the city, another thought came into his mind that tore at his heart. As soon as he returned to the capitol with Azula, he had resumed his courtship with Mai. The relationship with the stoic and emotionless girl was a complete mockery. He had no desire to court her when he came back, as his childhood crush had faded away long ago, and had only done so at the subtle urging of his sister and father, that he knew had an underlying threat if he didn't do what they 'suggested'.

Of course he had acted as the overprotective and doting boyfriend because that was what was expected from him. Each display of affection was carefully calculated, executed, and then judged whether or not it was good enough by his ever-present sister, who would then report to his father. Zuko felt rotten. It was lie after lie. And Mai, he knew, deserved better than someone who didn't truly love her, lied, and forced every kiss they shared.

Those eyes flashed through his mind again, and he was reminded of his time back in the catacombs, of the easy conversing between that Water Tribe girl he barely knew and himself. It had been so easy to tell her of his own mother when she told him of hers. Nothing was ever forced or calculated. In fact, he hadn't really registered that he told her of the painful secret of his mother until Katara had looked at him with those compassionate eyes.

In those few minutes, or hours, she showed him more kindness than anyone had shown him in years, other than his Uncle Iroh. She had even offered to heal his scar with sacred water, having trusted him enough in that short time to do such a thing. He was about to reply, but the Avatar burst through the wall with his Uncle Iroh. Katara ran to the Avatar and embraced him, checking for any injuries like a mothering bear-hen.

Pulling himself out of those thoughts with a forceful shake of his head, he returned to planning his escape, and his way of getting closer to that easy and comforting interaction with Katara. He woke late the next morning to one of the servants knocking on the door. Sitting up, those oceanic eyes flashed again, and he wished, not for the last time, that he could see them once again without the sadness and betrayal in them.


	2. Katara's Thoughts

The full moon, which was normally a great sign for a waterbender such as her, but now, there was a shadow to it. Katara wished that she could unlearn to bloodbend. But now that she knew of its existence, every month under the light of the glowing disc in the sky, she felt that sinister power call to her. It was achingly apparent that there was water in her veins, in her friend's veins, and in the veins of the creatures that made the Western Air Temple their home. She felt it with every pulse of their hearts.

Katara felt wretched. How could she see her friends sleeping forms around the dwindling fire and only see the water that was infused into their very being. She hated this part of herself, the part of her that clinically gazed upon the figure of her brother and ignore any emotion and see the possibilities.

It was the scar upon her soul, much like the scar on Zuko's face. She thought back to her time in the catacombs with the prince, and looked at it with new, older eyes. His life wasn't any easier than hers. The scar on his face, received at the hand of his own father for having a moral compass, was far nobler to have than the invisible one that marred her own conscience.

She compared experiences. Ozai was someone he trusted, and sought to seek approval from, similar to the way that she looked up to Hama when she found the only other bender from her tribe. But each discovered their trust was misplaced in heartbreaking circumstances that left mutilations of their heart and a mark of shame on one face.

She remembered gazing into those stunning gold eyes, seeing the good person that Zuko was instead of the jaded past written on his skin. In piercing windows to the soul, she could find the deep-seated hurt and sadness of the betrayal of his family, the hope that sparked when she offered to heal him, and the want to be accepted.

And mere moments later, that offer was rescinded as the Avatar made a dramatic entrance, and she turned her back on Zuko. How naïve she was! Only now, when she had gained this new wisdom, could she see that she was the first traitor of that fateful night. She had shown herself to be fickle, and therefore, when the Prince was offered that one thing he wanted so badly, acceptance, so concretely by his sister, of course he chose that path!

If only she could speak to him now. She would tell him that she accepted his scars, because she has some of her own. She would promise him to never see the scar that was on his face, if only he would also accept the fact that she sometimes felt the urge to bloodbend, and trust her never to take advantage of him.

She knew that she couldn't tell the others of this dark side of her. They were so black and white and when she felt the pull of the moon, she turned grey. Aang, the sweet boy, relied on his sense of right being right and wrong being wrong so heavily that if he knew this darkness that lied inside of Katara, he would begin to doubt himself, and this entire war would be all for naught.

Sokka, her own brother, would not trust her. Even now, after that night with Hama, Sokka did not trust his sister as he did before. If he knew that her bending caused her to entertain thoughts of controlling them, the relationship with her brother would be irrevocably changed for the worse. Toph would be the only one that could possibly understand, because she knew what it was like to have a double life that those she loved wouldn't accept.

However, she knew that Zuko would accept her if she told him, in that curious instinctual way that one sometimes knew. She had a feeling that she would meet him again, but she was unsure whether or not he would be on the side of good, or the side of his father. So she would be wary, but she would only look on the inside of him, and no longer judge his scars.

The sun in the east rose, turning the morning the brilliant gold of Zuko's eyes. With relief, Katara felt the pull of the full moon recede as the beautiful sphere set in the west.


End file.
